


Get Help: TimKon Edition

by robinlikeitshot



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: (mentioned) - Freeform, Core Four, Crack, Gen, Pineapples, bromance or romance?its up to u, get help, i did a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24873577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinlikeitshot/pseuds/robinlikeitshot
Summary: “Let’s do get help,” Kon said, waggling his eyebrows like the world’s most ridiculous golden retriever. And just. No.Tim’s eye twitched at the cheers coming from the other two, and he clicked his comm off with vindication. “We are not doing get help.”---OR Tim and Kon do 'get help' and a good time is had by all(except tim)
Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 7
Kudos: 150





	Get Help: TimKon Edition

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to the random post on tumblr that inspired me to write this that i am sure i will never find again  
> Enjoy:)

“Wonder Girl, initiate failsafe #43. Impulse, work your way up from the basement and disable motion sensors. Stay on coms. Red Robin out.” Tim tapped the com, nodding at Kon, who was barely discernible in his stealth costume. 

At his signal, Kon silently wrapped his arm around his waist, flying them straight up to the roof of the warehouse, and moving slow enough that the guards patrolling the perimeter of Luthor’s off the books laboratories wouldn’t hear the slight _whoosh_ at the displacement of air. 

Soon, they reached the top, and Tim leaped out of Kon’s arms to twist and catch himself on the panel controlling the electrical field, quickly typing into his wrist computer. As soon as the force field gave the barest of flickers, Kon snatched him up and flew them through the small gap before the faint buzz indicated that it had turned back on.

They both collapsed on the floor of the rooftop, catching their breath. They didn’t have much time to spare, though, not if they wanted to nab the only copies of Luthor’s newest cloning experiment gone wrong before the villain caught wind of their covert mission. 

“C’mon,” Tim huffed, the wind whistling through his ears muffling his voice as he grabbed Kon’s hand, pulling him up with a groan even as Cassie checked in.

“Failsafe #43 has been set in motion. And can someone please remind me to add pineapples to the grocery list. We’ve been out for three days.”

“That’s because Bart hid the last two under the laundry machine,” Kon replied, attempting to brush some of the mud they’d picked up from the emergency trip into the swamps that Luthor apparently kept stocked with crocodiles.

“No names on coms,” he muttered, more out of habit than anything else, and was largely ignored in favor of Cassie attempting to lecture the speedster from well over thirty floors away. Focusing on cracking the secret elevator built onto the side of the roof, Tim tuned the other’s bickering out. It took him a few seconds; Luthor tech was good, but luckily Tim was better, and the lock cracked under his fingers just as the coms went suspiciously silent.

“Guys?” he questioned, walking into the elevator, Kon right behind him.

Cassie cleared her throat. “We uh. We might have a problem, Red.”

Kon frowned. “What kind of problem?” Tim noticed that his eyes were trained downwards, x-ray vision probably cranked up to a hundred. He pulled up his own semantics of the building, eyes widening at the red mass gathering outside of the elevator.

“The multiple armed guards outside of your only exit kind of problem.” Tim immediately began cataloging the exits in the elevator, grimacing when he realized that the only way out was a tiny air vent he was pretty sure even Bart wouldn’t be able to squeeze into. 

Mind whirring with plans, discarding one after the other, Tim turned to Kon and immediately paled when he saw the other boy’s Look. The Look that meant Tim was about to be roped into one of the boy’s harebrained schemes that would most definitely land them all in trouble(the others would argue that Tim has a similar look, and Tim would shoot right back that his schemes never got them _caught_ ).

“No.”

“C’mon Rob, you haven’t even heard me out here!”

Tim leveled him with a glare. Kon continued to smile, hovering enough feet off the ground to make the height difference irksome and place a crick in Tim’s neck.

Well, it wasn’t like it could make the situation any worse. “Fine, what’s your plan,” he relented, and fought off a reluctant smile at the way Kon’s whole face lit up.

“Let’s do get help,” Kon said, waggling his eyebrows like the world’s most ridiculous golden retriever. And just. No.

Tim’s eye twitched at the cheers coming from the other two, and he clicked his comm off in vindication. “We’re not doing get help.” He tried his best to sound like he wasn’t pleading, but going off the evil glimmer in Kon’s eyes, he had failed.

“It’ll be fun!”

“It is not fun, it’s embarrassing,” he argued back, trying desperately to come up with another plan, because knowing his friends-

“Do you have another plan?” came Bart’s voice from Kon’s speakerphone, and why they’d decided to bring their phones along on the mission was a lecture that Tim carefully filed away for another day. For now though…

“Well, no, but-”

“Then let’s do it,” Kon interrupted, looking way too excited for being trapped in the middle of a random warehouse filled with armed enemies, covered in stinking swamp muck, and facing irredeemable odds. 

“We are _not_ doing _get help_.”

\-----

“Help! Help! My boyfriend’s hurt,” and even as Tim _burns_ from the utter humiliation of being carried in Kon’s arms like a damsel in distress, he catches sight of the guards’ faces at the exact moment when realization hits them like a tank of kryptonite, and he has to admit that in that moment, it was worth it.

Even as Kon screams “help him!” and Tim hits the group of guards like a much lighter tank of kryptonite, taking down almost six guards with him. Pulling out his bo, he and Kon make quick work of the remaining few.

Knocking the last one on the head hard enough to send him to dreamland for a good long while, Tim turns the rest of his ire back to its deserving recipient, in the form of very versatile elbows.

Kon doesn’t even have the decency to look as though it hurt, just grinning back down at him. “Never again,” Tim promised, raising his bo as the stomp of boots from the hallway grew louder.

Kon ruffled his carefully gelled hair, before flying high enough that Tim had no chance of reaching him. “That’s what you said last time.”

And that was when Kon realized that just because he was invulnerable(and therefore non-flammable), did not mean that his clothes were as well. A fact that is further propounded by the scrapbook Tim sends everyone with multiple pictures of him trying to fight crime in nothing but his tighty whities. Ma has hers framed.

**Author's Note:**

> if u liked this fic, pls drop a kudos or comment down below(only if u rlly feel like it tho)  
> you can find me on tumblr at robinlikeitshot:)


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